Friday, December 18, 2009

TEMPORARILY AWAY: relocated to the Island of Misfit Survivors

I don’t know where to go from here. I am bleeding inside and it hurts. I want the hurt to go away and yet I do not want to reach out for any type of help. I continue to struggle with the conflict inside of me, and making decisions that are not consensual with all parts of me, and the backlash that occurs as a result. Once the decision is made there is pushback and anxiety and I while I realize there are no ‘take backs’ I feel like I need to run away to the Island of Misfit Toys right now.

I want some semblance of sanity in my life. I want the pain to go away, or at least dull ~ I want the body stuff to stop and the movies to stop at night. And I know I need help for that to happen….but I don’t want help because I don’t want to depend on someone to help me, and I don’t want the vulnerability of actually talking about it. So where does that leave me? Yes, exactly! On the “Island of Misfit Survivors”, that’s where!  Feelings of vulnerability compromise my ‘inner security’, which then sends out alerts to PAG, who then makes life hell, and not just for me. Who doesn’t have issues with trust and vulnerability, right? That’s not a unique quality that simply I must bear. Especially in a one-sided relationship like therapy.

My mind is reeling with the thoughts of someone else seeing the ugly death inside my body that has metastasized into all 5 foot 3 inches of me; and I'm  wondering if I even have the ability and strength to try to figure out a way to communicate what I can only describe as an intense pain that cannot be expressed in the verbiage of the human language. The words simply do not exist. And even if they did I don’t know that I would be able to verbalize them.

Last night I found myself literally “Rocking around the Christmas Tree” in the quiet desperation of the darkness. And I sat on the floor, crying and wrapped in a blanket, rocking and counting the white and red lights on the tree in my living room. And when the lights would blur from the tears in my eyes, I would close my eyes, reopen them, and start again…counting and rocking…counting to save myself from shattering, counting to save myself from falling deeper into the pit of hopeless abandonment. Counting and rocking… counting to save my life.

I don’t know what I need ~ to pray harder? That doesn’t work well for me. I should ask someone to pray for me? Maybe that would work. Prayer for strength? I cannot believe I that I am doubting myself yet again just when I thought I had taken a step forward in this fight. My mind is a chaotic mess! I need to go throw up and then try to find something else to focus on. The less I think about this right now, the better.

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